Sidetracked Again
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: Human!Ten explains to Rose one of his encounters with the alluring Corsair, back in his fourth incarnation, but, as we all know, the Doctor tends to get sidetracked a lot whenever he's talking about anything for any amount of time. Mooches off several of my other Human!Ten/Rose stories. Addresses several differences between Pete's World and their home universe. I don't own DW!


A long time ago, back in my fourth incarnation, after I dropped off Sarah Jane in the wrong place, I was… lonely. Traveling on my own—you know how I get. Well, actually, you don't, because if you were there when I was lonely, I wouldn't be lonely to begin with. But anyway. Catchy start to an embarrassing story, don't you think?

So I went to the planet Salu-salo, infamous throughout the universe for its parties. Since I was a bit more reserved five regenerations ago or so, it made a welcome change from what I'd been doing. Less boring than Time Lord society, to begin with. But few things aren't.

I wonder what the state of it is here. Wait, does Gallifrey exist in this universe? Actually, never mind. It _must_. I had to have been around for Torchwood to exist—Queen Victoria and the werewolf—oh, Rose Tyler, you are brilliant! You didn't exist in this universe, so I died since you weren't around to save me. I live for you! Quite literally. Now stop blushing; I need your attention.

…How did I not figure that out sooner? Probably busy thinking about other things. Like how to build this TARDIAS. Wait—if I used this to take us back through time and make it so that we relive the adventure with the werewolf, what would that do? Would that make you exist to begin with, since then it would follow the exact pattern of events our world did, resulting in a Rose Tyler? Would that have saved me, too, then, and would there be a second, Time Lord Doctor running around?

It wouldn't be quite the same as a paradox, rescuing us from the past, since it's alternate versions of us, not _us _us. But do our copies count as us, anyway? Is it DNA which determines what a paradox is, or universe of origin? Would the TARDIAS even bring us there, or would it sense something off about the time? Rose, why aren't you saying anything?

Oh… Right. Story. Now. Where was I?

Ah yes. I sat there, alone, in the most beautiful bar I've ever been in. All outside in the twilit desert, warm and dusty, three moons in the summer sky. I was drinking this thing they have called 'agwardyente'—most delicious thing you've ever had, I'll take you there to have it sometime—but you have to be careful with it. It acts as a bit of an aphrodisiac if you drink it too quickly. I know because—first time I went there, there was something of an incident, back in my first life—well, never mind. That's not the point. Anyway.

This girl swaggers up to me—curvacious, flirtatious, vivacious, disgracious—is that a word? Oh, she was a _bad_ girl. She's got this bronzed skin and this black wavy hair, braided down the back, that goes all the way down to her waist, and at the time, I didn't really know nor care what species she even was. As long as she'd talk to me.

Rose, of course I mean 'talk' when I say 'talk'!

So she sits down across the table and orders us both more agwardyente, and she just downs her glass before I can even warn her no. But she seems like she's built up something of an immunity or something since I've seen the effects and they're not as pretty as her, and tells me that she's people-watching and I seem like an interesting person, so how about we get into some sort of trouble together? Me, I never go looking for trouble, so I—

Stop that laughing!

So,_ anyway_, I said no. But then she smiled at me and she's got that kind of smile that makes you melt inside. I wish I could describe it better. It makes you feel reckless and daring, even more than usual for me, and I wondered whether she'd put something in my drink. Wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened, certainly. So she gave me that amazing smile and asked again, more slowly, like I hadn't understood. And I'd had a bit much to drink, after all, and so—I still said no.

That seemed to give her a sort of certainty, I think. I could see it in those flashing dark eyes of hers. Rose, if you don't stop smiling at me like that I'm taking you right back home again and postponing the wedding for another six months.

Anyway, where was I again? Eyes. Dark brown eyes. Nothing like yours. Yours are pretty—beautiful, in fact, along with the rest of you—but they'd look odd in her body, mainly because what would your eyes even be_ doing_ in another woman's body. It'd be like cheating, but… much more… disgusting… and not romantic… okay, it's nothing like that.

Quote me on that if you like. 'It's nothing like that'. Maybe I'll say that more often. What do you think? No? Too _confusing_? And everything else I say isn't? Fine!

_So_! She stayed awhile and didn't bring up any more talk of going off and making mischief (and no, Rose, not more than that—just mischief). I didn't actually remember most of the things she said about herself, but they mostly had to do with interests and such, most of which were cats, the universe, and thrill-seeking. And drinking. Lots of drinking. Hence her immunity to agwardyente.

After awhile this band showed up and played some music I swear was enchanted, and I started really wanting to dance. I like dancing. Good invention, dancing. Anyway, the lady seemed pleased and offered her hand and I took it and we danced, me less gracefully than her since I was just a little bit tipsy, and by that I mean drunk off my arse. And I was honestly surprised I didn't trip over my scarf.

Yes, I wore a scarf at the time. Still in the TARDIS storage room in case I need it later. One of the many things I miss about the other universe. But the other universe hasn't got _you _in it anymore, and we can't have me gallivanting off with a scarf instead of you, can we?

The music never stopped. I don't know _what _those musicians were on. But they didn't lose their energy, and the beat never stopped, not all night. The Master would have loved it.

I've told you about the Master, haven't I? No? Blimey, what's got into me? He was my best friend at one point. Then, he very nearly caused the death of all humanity, as happens surprisingly often with various aliens, but fortunately—with said humanity's help—I managed to undo all the damage he did.

And where is he now? Dead. Scattered as ashes to the wind. I burned his body myself, after his wife shot him. And for one shining, golden moment, I was going to travel with him forever. Another Time Lord. Someone who understood on one level or another what it is to be alone. But she shot him and… I wasn't worth regenerating for. He chose to die instead of be with me.

He's never going to travel the stars again, and never did manage to free himself of the incessant drumming in his head. And all the time, he hated me. He never forgave me, even though I forgave him long ago.

He was mad, you know. Brilliant, but mad. They show us the Untempered Schism at age eight—cruelest thing you can do to a kid—and hope you survive, and unfortunately, in his case, he did…

You know, he's still out there at the end of the universe, hidden as a human professor, near his deathbed at this point… unless we take him in and tell him who he really is. Show him. Stop him from ever creating the Toclafane. Imprison him, if necessary, and teach him the right way. Stop the drumming. I could have him back in my life. Another Time Lord. Even if I'm human, I could still absorb some of the regeneration energy, and so could you. We could travel forever. I could help him. I could…

…I…

…Could…

…Right. Back to the music. How long was I gone? Were you counting? God, I hope you weren't counting. …All right, fine, twenty-eight seconds. Could have been worse. At least I came back from that tangent before I crashed the TARDIAS.

So… where was I? I've lost track again. Right. Dancing. With her. And not tripping over my scarf and breaking my neck, by some miracle. One hell of an embarrassing way to regenerate, let me tell you. Not that I've ever done it, mind, but I've seen it happen. Hope it doesn't happen to anyone we know. No, that's impossible. There isn't a being in existence that can regenerate in this world. Not right now, at least.

There was something going on with that River Song, though. That professor I probably haven't told you about. I'll never know who she is, now. I don't even know if she exists in this reality. Same with Queen Elizabeth the First—is she around? She hated me, and I'll never know why. So many loose ends—why can't I at least see what my other self is running around, doing? Isn't there a window somewhere?

As we danced, I felt myself… kind of… slipping out of consciousness. No, not Queen Elizabeth. The girl on Salu-salo. Yes, she has a name. But I'll come to that later. And anyway, it isn't important, because I have no idea what her real name is. She's almost as clever as me in that respect.

So she slapped me, gently, you know, to keep me awake. And it worked, but unfortunately, that also started something of a bar fight, since I stumbled into someone else when she did. And that person—think he might have been catkind—hit me round the face, so the girl kicked him… well, somewhere unpleasant. He cursed at her, and then things sort of… escalated from there.

But she and I didn't stick around to find out. She pulled me out of the fray and, well, I survived, obviously. But she stuck me in a bush and went off to fight. Apparently, she forgot to add 'brawling' to her list of interests—or maybe I just forgot. So I lay there, aching a little, wanting more agwardyente, and phasing in and out of consciousness.

I don't know when she got back, but by the time she did, it was late enough that the suns had both gone all the way down. She brought me what I thought was water, so I drank it. Trouble is, it was agwardyente, and, well, you know what I said about _that_, so that's… really all there is to say on the matter…

Don't you dare ask for details. How wrong is that? Asking for the details about a particularly intimate encounter between your fiancée and another woman? But, if you insist.

Okay, well, if you must know. She was, er, bleeding from cut glass. So, me, I wrapped my scarf around her bloody leg, but I… accidentally… brought her leg up too high… and then I saw her tattoo. An Ouroboros. Tiny, but there.

What do you mean, what's an Ouroboros? It's a snake that eats its own tail. Pointless beast, really. Good thing it isn't real. In fact, it might have been invented through an infinite time loop of the Corsair visiting Earth and inspiring the myth, then visiting at a later time and being inspired by the myth he inspired.

The Corsair, before you ask (so you can stop gaping), is one of my… acquaintances. In every one of his regenerations, he had an Ouroboros tattoo. The placement and size varied, but it was the same tattoo. Probably because a Time Lord's first life is the foundation of all the others. If you get tattooed in that life, that stays with you in one form or another for all your remaining ones.

So yeah, it'd better be a good one.

Anyway, once I saw that tattoo, I knew it was the Corsair. And we had a little chat, which wasn't actually very much of a chat due to the fact that, well, half the time I was trying to kiss her and the other half she was trying to undress me, and it was generally a mess. But then, we were both seized, knocked out, and thrown in jail.

Yeah, pretty much exactly like what just happened to _us_. In a slightly different order.

So when we were in the cell, we didn't even care. Just kept on going. What else were we going to do? And you can imagine where things went, having just experienced something similar. Of course, _that _time, there was a less comfortable coat and a very, very long scarf. And a fedora.

It had been awhile since I'd seen the Corsair, and I'd only seen him once or twice before, never really got a chance to talk. Rose. Rose. Stop giggling! Cross-gender regeneration isn't… oh, forget it. Point is, Time Lords (and former Time Lords like myself) don't have a concept of sexuality—ah, that sobered you up—so it doesn't really matter in the first place.

I can see you're about to ask something. Probably something about me. And I'm going to tell you right now that it varies from regeneration to regeneration for all Time Lords, and I'm no exception. But since you know I love you, that'll answer your question enough for now.

Where was I? The jail cell. After… well, you know, I ended up falling asleep in a pile of my clothes, too exhausted to put them on again. One thing you can say about the Corsair—she has a _lot _of energy. I think she could have stayed up another five hours at least, and she had to have had twice as much to drink.

The thing about agwardyente is that it's much more delicious than normal alcohol, and it's much more enjoyable in general, but the hangover is _hell._ High price to pay, but depending on what you accomplish when you drink it, it's worth it.

All things I had done earlier aside, when I awoke, I felt like my body was on fire, or maybe like my head had a sword in it. If anyone drew that sword from my head, as I doubt they could have done since it didn't exist, I'd have crowned them King of England.

What's more, I wasn't in jail. The Corsair had brought us both out of it, apparently (judging by her rushed explanation) because any kind of contact between prisoners can result in execution, especially in the case of… _intimate_ contact. The people of Salu-salo put the inmates together that they think are most likely to end up troublemakers. Apparently, the Corsair has quite the record with them. (It was at that point that I decided I would never get drunk with her again.)

And, further, we were on a ship. In space. And it wasn't a spaceship. It was an actual ship. Small pirate ship, if I remember correctly, and I always do. Called the STELLA. Evidently, my granddaughter—yes, I have a granddaughter, as I'm sure I've told you, so you can wipe off that shocked expression—isn't the only one who can come up with clever acronyms: _Spacial Transportation Encompassing Locations Located Anytime._

Nothing much more passed between us but a few very quiet words, since anything louder felt like screaming in my ear. She did kiss my forehead before she hauled me into my TARDIS, though. Vamoosed. That's a good word, isn't it, 'vamoosed'? I should really use that more often. But it's easier to say 'run'.

Well, this has been very entertaining, if you're me and not you. I guess you're bored at this point. Either that, or mildly intrigued, or perhaps weirded out is a more accurate interpretation.

Suppose I'll let you breathe, then.

As you were.

**((Ah, I don't even know what happened with this one. Started out a sequel to **_**Clothes Maketh the Woman **_**and wound up being its own thing.))**


End file.
